


On the Road

by vaingloriousactor



Category: Wicked - All Media Types, Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman
Genre: Camping, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Grudging friendship, Male Friendship, Paternal Instinct, Pseudo-parental feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18564019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaingloriousactor/pseuds/vaingloriousactor
Summary: Fiyero and Boq, recently turned into the Scarecrow and the Tin Man, follow the Yellow Brick Road to the Emerald City for reasons of their own. Along the way, they become attached to the girl from Kansas and the Cowardly Lion.





	1. Night One

Camping out in an open field, without so much as a tent. This was not something that Fiyero, spoiled prince, had ever experienced before. Of course, he was only a scarecrow now. He might have passed the night tied to a post, instead, if it weren’t for the girl.  

 

He didn't feel the cold and he didn't feel hunger. The campfire didn't warm him, but he was staying as far away from it as possible, shivering at the thought of what could happen. He hugged his knees and glared at the crackling flames, then at the tin man. Boq. 

 

"We don't need the fire, you know," he said. He jerked his head in the direction of the girl. "She's asleep." 

 

Looking at her, curled up asleep with her dog beside her, made Fiyero's heart soften. She was just a kid, caught up in a world that she didn't understand. Being lied to. And he was going to use her for his own plan.

 

There was something insufferable about the Scarecrow, and Boq knew it was going to be a long journey. 

 

"Habit. Sorry.”

 

He recalled night after night after night of making fires for Nessa. It was never warm enough. Or some nights it burned too low. The sleeping girl didn't complain. It was welcome. It didn't have much effect on Boq, though he could almost, just almost feel the smooth tin that was once his skin heating up. 

 

But the Scarecrow's comment bothered him--annoyed, really--just enough that he made no effort to put it out.

 

"Can't imagine you'd be too fond of fire." He smirked. The slumbering lion, curled around the girl, shifted in his sleep and Boq went quiet again.  

 

Fiyero looked away from the girl, trying to push away the feelings of guilt. He'd worry about the plan when they got to the end of the road. Until then, they owed it to her to take care of her. She was just a kid. And hers was the first face Fiyero had seen after he found himself transfigured, and she had been kind. 

 

Glancing at Boq, Fiyero couldn't read the smooth, expressionless metal. He wasn’t surprised that the Tin Man didn’t so much as move to put out the fire. Fiyero’s mouth, now just a gash in the burlap bag that was his face, turned down at the corners at Boq's smirking comment. 

 

"Do you know how he got this way?” Boq asked. “The lion, I mean."

 

Fiyero’s posture turned defensive. Was that a trap? Did Boq suspect that he was, in fact, Elphaba's collaborator in freeing the lion cub? His thoughts raced--but no, Boq's tone wasn't suspicious. 

 

"You mean the... cowardly-ness?" he asked. Acting the fool, the way he always had.

 

“Yeah. That. She let him go. Said she was freeing him for his own good. Look at him now.” A pause. “You got a bone to pick with her? She take your brain?”

 

Indignation rose in Fiyero's chest, and he burned to defend Elphaba's honor. How could anyone think she should have left a frightened lion cub in a cage? He frowned, knowing he couldn't say a word in defense of the wicked witch, and he had no idea what to say. 

 

_ I was always brainless, _ he thought bitterly. She woke him up and made him think for the first time. But he'd been too stupid, even then, to save himself or save her. He couldn't keep up with her, when she was so brilliant. His plan was barely a plan--he was doomed to fail. 

 

Feeling hopeless, he gestured at his body with a limp arm.  "She made me the way you see me."

 

He could feel the straw that sometimes fell out of his ears. "She took my brain," he echoed. "She took everything. And I take it she did the same to you." He raised an eyebrow. "Did she do it for your own good?"

 

_ Your own good.  _ That sounded like something Nessa would have said, Boq thought. He recoiled again at the thought of her. The wicked witch of the east. She who took everything from his people.  From him.

 

"She didn't act alone." That was the best response he could muster, without revealing his personal connection to the two witches. He didn't want to trust the Scarecrow. Now was not the time. 

 

She didn't act alone? What had happened to him? Fiyero couldn't imagine Elphaba doing that to someone to punish them. Okay, maybe she would, or maybe she would  _ snap _ like she did when she froze the whole class except for him and her.

 

Boq watched the girl curl closer to the warm fur of the sleeping beast. The dog woke up  and drowsily sauntered over to where the two sat, sniffing at Fiyero's leg, then curling up next to him, himself.

 

Boq searched in the cavity in his chest for some sentiment for the girl. But instead he briefly glimpsed the silver slippers on her feet. Nessa’s shoes. Nessa the dead wicked witch of the east. And he instead felt a pant of pride for the girl. He was glad Nessa was dead. And any love he almost, almost felt for her was dead too.  

 

But then he wondered, as he saw the girl, if he would have had a daughter of things would have been different and if those shoes would have been passed down instead of robbed. What he didn’t want to acknowledge, for fear of crediting Elphaba with anything, was that that very sentiment came from the heart he still had.                                         

 

"You weren't always…?" Boq didn't need to finish his question.

 

Fiyero briefly worried that the dog would pee on him or use his leg for a stuffed toy. When he curled around himself and lay back down, Fiyero relaxed, reaching out to scratch behind the little dog's ears. He kept playing with the dog while he answered Boq's next question. 

 

"You think I was born a dancing scarecrow?" he said with a snort. He shook his head. 

 

In reality, he hadn't even fully realized what had happened to him until he heard the girl's voice and was jolted awake to find himself hanging from a post. He only remembered so much pain that he couldn't bear it, and then suddenly, no pain at all.

 

“Well, I think you were born at some point. Same as me. Just thought I’d ask. No one’s ever who they see at first glance.”

 

He put out the fire and said nothing else, ignoring any nagging suspicions about who exactly the straw man across from him was. His voice was so familiar. But surely, Boq told himself, it was nothing.


	2. Night Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night two on the road. Conversations continue to ensue.

Night Two

 

The next night, they were as safe as they could be given the circumstances. Boq, this time, was leaning against the slumbering lion, whose tail twitched lazily in his sleep. Every once in a while, Boq would turn a bit, slowly and slightly so as to not make much noise, and scratch the big cat behind his ear and he would purr in response.

 

The girl, meanwhile, found herself sleeping against Fiyero's shoulder, content and at ease. Boq watched with something of a smile he didn't even realize was passing his face.

 

"Poor kid. She's in over her head. I only hope this wizard knows what he's talking about. I know what it's like to not be able to go home. Or have a home to go to." He didn't want to reveal too much.

 

Last night, the way the Tin Man talked, Fiyero easily believed that he had no heart. His mood was black and bitter and self-pitying, although he didn't show it to the girl. 

 

The way he scratched the sleeping Lion behind the ear, he didn't seem quite as obsessed with his own bitterness. The poor lion cub. Fiyero didn't know what he should have done differently, but he should have done something. He must not have done enough to help him, he hadn't been smart enough or good enough to help him, or the lion wouldn't be so unhappy.

 

And the little girl curled up with her head against his shoulder. Fiyero held himself completely still, resolving not to disturb her slumber for a second. He was grateful that his straw stuffing provided her with an excellent pillow, at least. That much he could do for her. 

 

"Poor kid," he said. "Do you think... What if the Wizard doesn't want to help her?" He looked up at Boq's face. After all that he’d learned about the Wizard, he wouldn’t put it past the scheming dictator to turn away a little girl who needed help. 

 

Boq was fond of the lion, though he didn’t quite yet have the word for it. There was a certain ease the animal brought upon him. A memory almost of what his life had been like before. Before all of it. Before Nessa. Before Elphaba. And Glinda too. He couldn’t feel the softness of the beast’s fur  the way he had once been able to, but it was the rhythm of his purring, reverberating throughout Boq’s new body that brought the ease. 

 

He hadn’t thought much about the Scarecrow’s question. Rather, he didn’t want to think about it. The possibility they were all doomed. He wanted desperately to have his heart restored. Sure the Wizard could help him. There was always buzz about his name. His miracles.  

 

Boq’s eyes fell on the girl, perfectly content against the straw man, trusting, attached.   But the question plagued him as it sunk in. 

 

“He’s the wonderful wizard. He must want to help her. What did she ever do to prompt him not to.” A pause. “Though I have long had my suspicions about everyone in this bloody land who claims to help. Who preaches benevolence.” 

 

His voice grew acerbic again. “What’s got you worrying that?”    

 

For the first time, he realized he was protective of the girl and her little dog too.

 

Fiyero compressed his mouth into a line. He couldn’t admit that he had any reason for being worried about that. For a moment, even as the Tin Man openly questioned the Wizard, Fiyero wanted to still believe that he was all-benevolent.  Fiyero had always believed in the Wizard the same as anybody, never giving it much thought. It was just one of those things you knew, because everyone said it. 

 

He shook his head, causing a few bits of straw to fall out from the seam between his head and his neck with a soft rustle. "It's just..." 

 

A sigh. "I guess I'm just worried in general. Worried that anything could go wrong. We have so much riding on this." This journey. This quest. He smoothed down the girl's auburn hair with one hand. The rhythm of her chest rising and falling reminded him of the breaths he no longer took, himself.

 

“I don’t know. Ever since I kn—met his affiliates, I’ve been skeptical.” He looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening. The only person worse to have eavesdropping than Elphaba would be one of Nessa’s government affiliates. The thought of it was very difficult to stomach, and he was grateful his stiff posture betrayed no anxiety. He didn't want to agree with the scarecrow, so to speak. But he was worried, too.                                                   

 

The Tin Man had a heart once. Was a munchkin once. Knew Glinda the Good and even loved her. And knew and befriended the Wicked Witch too. If the girl were to find out the truth, all their lives would be in greater danger. If she knew, then Elphaba would perceive her as a greater threat. The Scarecrow without his brain has no idea that ignorance truly was bliss.                              

 

The girl shifted in her sleep, the warmth of cloth and hay bringing comfort. Boq softened at the sight. Though he’d never admit to it.                                                     

 

“It’s difficult  to keep hope he can give me a heart.” A pause. “Please don’t tell her the witch made me this way.”

 

“Met who?” Fiyero asked, frowning. He couldn’t think of an ally of the Wizards who would give Boq a reason to hate them...it couldn’t be Glinda, surely.

 

“I won’t tell her,” Fiyero said quietly. “And you won’t tell her about me?” That sounded fair.

 

“It’s better for her not to know certain things.” He wished he could go back to the days when he didn’t worry about anything because he didn’t think about anything. Now, he was filled with thoughts and fears, but no answers to his questions.

 

“I had a...connection to the governor of munchkinland,” Boq said. “The...the... It doesn’t matter.” He brushed the matter aside. 

 

Boq averted his stare from the straw man.  “I try not to think about those days.” He hesitated. “We should remain vigilant. We have to move first thing in the morning.”

 


	3. Night Three

They stayed vigilant until it was light, the Tin Man feeding the fire from time to time. For him and the Scarecrow, there was no need to sleep. They didn't need to eat anymore, as the Scarecrow had told the little girl when she tried to share with him some bread and apples the first night. Instead, he had managed to find some wild nuts and berries, with some vegetables in untended gardens, to feed her. It was probably the first time in his life he'd ever cared about someone else being hungry.

 

"We must be getting closer," he said to Boq as they bedded down for the night just over a ridge from the poppy fields. "How much farther can it be?" 

 

A sigh betrayed his impatience. Distracting himself, he tucked his arm around the sleeping girl. "Glinda really just said 'follow the yellow brick road.' Such useful directions.” 

 

As though it was that simple to get what they all wanted.

 

"Sounds like her doesn't it?" Boq was about to say something else then the Scarecrow's words caught him off guard.  "You know her? Miss Glinda?" He was so used to calling her that, even as time had changed them both. Old habits die hard.

 

Fiyero unthinkingly let out a laugh. "Yeah, that sounds like her," he said. He winced as he realized his misstep. "I...used to know her," he admitted. 

 

Boq found it hard not to think about their school days.  He should've stopped Glinda. Should have stopped Elphaba. He was going to, too.  But then...Elphaba was never going to stop him from anything. It was always Nessa. That wicked, wicked witch. Maybe if he had gotten the chance to stop the wedding, Fiyero, idiot that he was, wouldn't have been executed. Poor soul

 

"I don’t doubt she's been mourning Fiyero." He said.

 

Distracting himself from the conversation, Boq drew his attention to the Animal with them once again who, this time, was only half-asleep. He listened to the pair talking, tail and ear twitching every once and while, but never quite having it in him to share his own experiences with Elphaba and the executed man.

 

Boq sounded just like himself when he said Miss Glinda. Fiyero's first impression of the munchkin, the very first hour he arrived at school, was of a besotted idiot. Pathetically eager to please. Without his heart, he was nothing like that munchkin.

 

It was lucky that Fiyero's burlap face didn't easily betray his feelings. He wasn't sure what his face would have looked like at the mention of Glinda mourning him, otherwise. A confused mess of guilt stabbed into his chest. 

 

"Is she--?" He bit his tongue. "No doubt," he mumbled in agreement.

 

Fiyero could see the Lion's eyes winking sleepily, ears twitching. "Are we keeping you up, Lion?" he asked quietly. "I'm sorry."

 

"I'm just listenin'." The Lion's ear twitched and he eyed the pair steadily. 

 

Boq couldn't help but wonder if there was something either of his traveling companions wasn't telling him. 

 

_ For a heartless man you speak very warmly of this Glinda,  _ the Lion only thought, raising his head for a moment. "It's an interesting conversation."

 

"You know, it's going to sound funny now, given our circumstances, but I was in love with her once. Glinda, that is. So smitten with her that I would do anything for her. In truth, I did." He paused. "May I make a confession?"

 

At this, the girl woke up, blearily blinking her eyes at the other three. "Is it time to wake up?"  

 

Boq shook his head, offering something of a small smile.

 

"You go back to sleep. You have several more hours before morning." The girl nodded, resting back against Fiyero, smiling drowsily at him for a moment before closing her eyes again, murmuring a quiet thanks for serving as a pillow.

 

Fiyero frowned. "Well, I hope you'll tell us if our talking does bother you," he said. 

 

The lion and the girl would need their strength in the morning. And there was something sweet about seeing the big tawny cat sleeping in the glow of the fire, his chest rising and falling, his paws occasionally batting at nothing. More than that, however, Fiyero was reminded that he needed to be careful of what he said.

 

Wrapping his arm around Dorothy, he gave her a squeeze. He couldn't help but smile at her in return. "We'll wake you up when it's time," he promised. "Sleep now." 

 

She looked even younger in her sleep than she did walking beside them all day. She was so young to be walking for days across Oz. Fiyero looked at Boq. "I wish we were at the Emerald City already."

 

Leaning against him, Dorothy nodded in agreement. Fiyero smiled again and stroked her tangled hair, waiting a moment before he spoke again. 

 

"You had something to confess?" he prompted the Tin Man.

 

Boq waited until the the girl fell asleep again then closed his eyes and sighed. “You know the witch who died? The one with the slippers. Elphaba helped her walk. And… she turned on me.” 

 

He paused, realizing now there was no going back. “And Elphaba tried to save me. The more I think, the more I can’t hate her. I’m just...so conflicted.” He slowly raised his knees as to not make any ruckus. “Nessa rose took my entire life from me...not Elphaba.”

 

Fiyero was silent, trying to absorb this. Nessa... he couldn't picture Nessa turning on Boq. But he realized he couldn't picture it only because he could barely picture Nessa at all. When did he ever bother to pay attention to her? She was just the girl stuck in the chair, the "tragically beautiful" porcelain doll. Nothing interesting. Of  _ course _ Elphaba would try to save Boq, Fiyero thought loyally, thinking of the young woman whose temper flared at injustice... but could she bear to protect someone from her own sister?

 

"I..." The Scarecrow didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry. But why did you want to hunt Elphaba, then?" 

 

The sympathy he was feeling for Boq cooled thinking about this. Boq admitted to blaming Elphaba for something that she didn't do. Swearing he would kill her for it.

 

“I was hoping there was a way out. A way to help.” His voice grew low. “I’m so scared this little girl is going to get hurt. We need to get her to safety and maybe if we do that then we can...” he sighed. 

 

“Maybe we can help Elphaba. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” With clanking shoulders he started tearing. “Shit, don’t let me rust.”

 

Quickly the Scarecrow Looked around for the oil can, spotting it some distance away. Damn. How would he reach it without disturbing the girl? Carefully, carefully, he leaned over sideways and stretched his arm out as far as he could. Grasping the can, he turned to the Tin Man and washed his eyes with the oil.

 

"Don't rust yourself," Fiyero admonished, not too rudely. He spoke low, too. 

 

"I...I feel as though you and I are the ones who are going to have to get the little girl and the cub home safely. What are you thinking?"

 

Finished, he set the can down right next to the Tin Man. He watched the reflection of the flames on the metal surface for a second. "Boq. Listen.  My true goal is to help Elphaba. I mean to help her in any way I can. She's not wicked like everyone believes. I know it."

 

It was a lot for Boq to process but he realized the more the words sunk in, the more he believed him. Then the truth dawned on him. 

 

“Fiyero!” It was more of a hiss than an exclamation, hushed, shocked. “Is it really you? I thought you died.” He paused. “I guess that makes two of us doesn’t it. Victims of mistakes. Of circumstance.”

 

He didn’t want to admit it, but the familiarity was comforting.  

 

“I won’t tell a soul. I’m so embarrassed about what anyone who knew me would say when they see me now. We’ll figure something out. Right?”

 

He was less certain than ever before. 

 

The shocked whisper made Fiyero cringe, automatically jerking his face away as if to hide from Boq. There was no way for Fiyero to deny who he was. He wasn’t going to. He’d taken a risk, and the result...seemed to be finding a co-conspirator. It was a relief, somehow. The two of them, Tin Man and Scarecrow, were not just bound together by the twist of fate that took away their humanity. Now, they were going to work together. “They were going to do something, somehow, some way.

 

But it pained Fiyero to be recognized like this. Boq thought it was embarrassing? His former self was a mere Munchkin, not a prince who could have any girl at any of a dozen exclusive boarding schools, Fiyero thought unkindly. Once he was so far above that pathetic figure bobbing in Glinda’s wake, and now? Now he couldn’t call himself superior to anyone. The truth was, he realized, he never had any right to think he was. He’d thought so much of himself was he was an idiot the whole time, so proud of being brainless.

 

He raised his eyes to Boq. “We’ll work together. At least there’s two of us.” That gave him hope, slim thought it was.

 

“Before I turned into this, I told Elphaba she could hide in my family’s unused castle,” he offered. “I hope she’s safe there. I can take us to the castle. Once these two are safe.” 

 

They couldn’t abandon the girl and the lion.

 

“Of course. In the Vinkus. I don’t doubt we’ll go unrecognized.” He wasn’t thrilled to work with  _ Fiyero _ of all people, but he seemed to have turned over a new leaf. He was working on that too. Facing, bit by bit, it was the years serving Nessa that pulverized his heart. He could let Fiyero in to that cavity. What else did he have to lose? 

 

Boq stared into the flames, wondering if he was scalding to the touch and almost wondering what it would like to be held again. Not that he ever was. 

 

“I don’t trust the wizard. I know I said this before. But something  _ feels _ wrong. Like we’re going into a trap. Glinda wouldn’t steer us wrong. Not that she even knew we were coming. Some twist of fate.”


	4. Daytime Interim-The Field of Poppies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interval.

The pair stood blinking at each other, and then turned their gazes to the sleeping trio at their feet.

 

“I say we leave the Lion.” That was Fiyero. “We can’t carry him.” He cursed himself silently, thinking how infuriated Elphaba would be to hear that he neglected the very animal they saved all that time ago. It was wrong, he knew it, but there were more pressing issues at hand.

 

“Are you insane? We can’t just  _ leave _ him. We told him we’d help him. He’ll sleep here forever.” Boq snapped, though his voice was still a whisper. There was no chance either of them could wake the girl currently, but he still took care and courtesy anyway.

 

“Can we just get the girl to safety first? We’ll decide what to do about the Lion once we find someone else. Clearly neither of us  _ can _ carry him, unless you have some secret super strength I never knew about.”

 

He was right. They had to get the girl home first and foremost. The Lion would understand, surely. He cared for her already, Boq could tell. So he raised his arms in something of surrender.

 

“Fine. You carry the dog though, ok? We can’t leave  _ him _ .” Boq picked up the girl, still fast asleep. She weighed virtually nothing, despite a stockier build. Gently, he cradled her, holding her to his chest, watching her breathe softly, steadily. She was in no actual peril, but she couldn’t sleep forever.

 

They walked onward, Boq still holding the girl, Fiyero the dog. He couldn’t help but feel guilty leaving the Cat behind them. It didn’t sit well with him. For the first time, in a long time, he felt like he had found a friend. And there they were leaving him behind.

 

Surely there was a way to get him out of the poppies too. Surely.


	5. Night Four

The next night the group was alone together after three nights being separated from each other in the Wizard’s sprawling towers, now far from him and his attendants, they were on the outskirts of the Emerald City once more, but now headed in the direction of Kiamo Ko. It was crucial that they were out of earshot of the wizard or any of his servants. 

 

They had been sent off with much pomp, each of them playing their parts well enough. The girl squared her shoulders, even though anyone could tell she was frightened from her head down to her silver slippers. 

 

Boq once again waited until the girl and the Lion were asleep. It was quiet. Too quiet. 

 

“I don’t like that  _ thing _ . That head. Whatever he is. Something is off. What could he want with Elphaba?”

 

He paused and then spoke even more quietly. 

 

“She knows you’re coming? The monkeys. You sent word?”

 

“I sent word,” Fiyero confirmed. There was something about those monkeys that made him shiver even while he handed one of them the note--and it wasn’t the wings. He wondered if they represented what the Lion would have turned into if he and Elphaba had left him in that cage. If winged monkeys were used for messengers, why wouldn’t the Wizard want to use lions that breathed fire for soldiers, or bears with vicious tusks?

 

“If the message reached her, she’ll know we’re coming. Now she’ll know that I’m alive.”

 

Selfishly, he wanted her to be excited just to see him again, relieved that he was alive, in spite of all that was going on.

 

“So what do we do now?” Boq asked. 

 

“I don’t know how to fight the Wizard,” Fiyero said, his voice low. He sat right next to Boq so they could whisper without being overheard. “But I did come up with a...contingency plan. To fake her death, so she won’t be hunted.”

 

“Well what is it? We’re not killing a child are we? I don’t have it in me to actually kill anyon _ e.  _ My conscience won’t sit right. It’s all head no heart.” He shuddered. “I don’t like how I acted at that rally. That wasn’t me. You know that right?”

 

Fiyero threw an offended look at Boq at the mere mention of killing a child.  _ What are you accusing me of? _ he wanted to say. He bit back the retort when he saw the little girl look up at them.

 

The girl was curled up to the lion again. She shifted quietly, opening her eyes. 

 

“I’m scared,” was all she said. Boq held an arm out and she curled against his metal torso. 

 

“You stay here with us. We’ll make sure nothing happens.” The girl nodded and wrapped her arms around him. He was hardly comfortable, especially compared to the others, but the girl found comfort nonetheless in the warm cadence of his voice.

 

“Everything’ll be okay. I promise,” he said to the girl. Now that they were on the way to Elphaba, he was more confident of that. All they had to do was talk to her and explain what was happening. Maybe she’d have a plan, a better plan than Fiyero could ever come up with. 

 

“Are you warm enough? Are you comfy?” he asked the little girl.

 

She nodded. “Yes, thank you,” she said in her small voice.

 

“You’ll get to sleep in your own bed again soon. We’ll get you home,” the Scarecrow said. “And your aunt and uncle will be glad to see you, I bet.”

 

The girl’s brow furrowed deeper. “They’re probably so worried about me. I never should have run away!” she fretted, stricken by guilt. “They don’t have any idea where I am…”

 

Fiyero cursed himself for upsetting her. He leaned forward and stroked her hair. “But they’ll be so relieved when they know you’re safe, and you can tell them all about how you defeated the wicked witch and met a wizard and a talking scarecrow and a man made out of tin…” 

 

He paused, suddenly realizing that he might actually miss the little girl when she was gone. “You’ll tell them about us, won’t you?”

 

“Oh, yes!” the girl said. “I’ll have so much to tell them, I won’t know where to start.” 

 

Fiyero smiled softly. “Well, how ‘bout you decide what you’re going to say while you fall asleep?”

 

“I like that idea.” The girl closed her eyes. 

 

Boq didn’t move as she fell back asleep. 

 

“I wish I had a daughter.” He said at length in a hushed whisper. “Or a child period. I can’t help but think things could’ve been different in another time and place.” He knocked on his knee quietly. “And yet here we are .”


	6. Night Five

The next day went by too quickly for them all. It was still ghastly to see the fervor and the anger at attacking Elphaba, how wound up everyone there seemed to get. He remembered leading the hunts, all fire and anger. 

 

And now he sat on the Wizard’s floor holding the girl to him, stroking her hair. 

 

“You didn’t know. It’s alright. It was a mistake.” He wanted to reassure her it was going to be ok. But here this girl sat, trembling, terrified she killed the second person in as many weeks. “You were just trying to help your friends.”

 

“I didn’t want to  _ kill _ her,” the little girl said again.

 

The Lion lay his head down on his crossed paws, looking up at her. “I’m just glad that none of us were hurt,” he said. “You were very brave. I-I thought we were all goners.”

 

The girl hiccuped. “You were very brave too! You came to rescue me.”

 

“Well, I was just scared for you,” the Lion said. “We had to do something. But you saved us all. If you hadn’t done anything, what would’ve happened to the Scarecrow?”

 

She shook her head, not even wanting to contemplate it. “Where is he?” she asked, looking around. “Where did he go?”

 

Boq stroked her hair soothingly, holding her in his tin arms. “He’s safe because of you,” he said.

 

Fiyero’s plan had  _ worked.  _ He was delirious with relief, feeling the rush that came from anxiety and terror draining out of him. The moment the witch flung out her hand, sending a burst of fire toward him, he’d thought everything had gone wrong. Elphaba didn’t get his letter, he thought-- he was going to die, this time at his hand. Then, to his surprise, the fire didn’t burn. The girl threw the bucket of water, and Fiyero’s plan actually  _ worked.  _

 

He spared one last thought for the girl with the gingham dress and the pigtails--but he knew it wouldn’t be the last. In a terrifying moment, she’d tried to save him, and he had used her. He thought of Glinda, who could never know what happened. Threatening her, leaving her forever mourning her ex-fiance and ex-best friend… what a good fiance he was. He realized painfully that he did, somehow, still have a brain and a heart inside his ragged, hay-stuffed body. With a swirl of mixed emotions, he left Oz.


	7. Epilogue

It was hard to say goodbye to the girl and her dog and...even Fiyero. Boq watched as he departed as well, not long after the girl seemed to vanish before their very eyes. It was him, the Lion, and Glinda left on the platform. The big cat emphatically pushed his forehead against Boq’s limply open palm, not saying a word, but purring quietly. Boq let his fingers run through his mane, pausing for a moment. The Lion’s tail calmly swished and Glinda couldn’t help but chuckle.

 

“It’s always so nice to see good friends come together.” Her voice was more level than he ever remembered, somber even.

 

The Tin Man felt his knees buckle, creaking as they did so as Glinda turned to look at him. Suddenly he felt as if no time had passed since their school days and he tried to compose himself. 

 

“Miss Glinda? I would like to thank you for how you sent that little girl home I was so worried about her.” He tried to clear his throat out of habit. Realization and then recognition crossed her face and she ran to him, throwing her arms quickly and tightly around him into a hug. She promptly let go, stepping back blushing.

 

“Boq! Oh I didn’t recognize you. I feel so wretched for that. What...what happened?” A part of her didn’t want to know. Another part already knew.  She let her hands fall by her sides as she stepped back further to look at him.

 

“It was Nessa.” He looked at his metal hands. “She, ah, went to incorrect extremes using that book you have there. Elphaba tried to save me. I’m alive at least. Wasn’t thinking about that earlier.”

 

Glinda cupped his cheek in one hand and smiled a small, pained smile. She promised to be  _ good _ from then on out. And Boq seemed to be a good place to start. 

 

“Do you want me to find a way to invert the spell? I have the Grimmerie, her, ah, book. I ca—”

 

“No, Glinda.  I’ve made my peace with all of this. This is who I need to be.”

 

“You’re handsome still.” It was a sincere comment. And he waved her off. 

 

“You’re being too kind.”

 

“I don’t know what to say after all this time. That’s all. What you did was heroic. Helping that little girl. Thank you for that.”

 

For the first time ever, she took his hand. 

 

“It’s….good to see you. I don’t know if now is the right time to say that but,” she sighed and closed her eyes “I’ve been trying to find a familiar face.”

 

“Well I think we could do with friends right now. After everything Nessarose did, I don’t know if you have a home right now. But I could certainly do with company too.”

 

He didn’t  _ get  _ Glinda in any way, with or without a symbolic heart. But he found a friend. They would read in what was once the Wizard’s study, her hunched over the Grimmerie, Boq far more content the histories of his own munchkin people and the rest of Oz, the heart clock ticking away.

  
He never did tell Glinda that Fiyero was alive,  _ that Elphaba was alive _ . He owed it to them. He already let Glinda in on the secret truth he had forgiven Elphaba for her mistakes. Even back when he thought he was heartless still. 


End file.
